


The Blacklist

by cathydeff



Category: Marvel Ultimates
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Domestic Violence, Eventual Romance, F/M, Inaccurate Depictions of how the FBI and other agencies work, Infidelity, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Psychological Torture, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 02:07:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16965705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathydeff/pseuds/cathydeff
Summary: Antonio Stark, codenamed Red, the Concierge of Crime, gives himself up at the FBI Headquarters in Washington, DC, with intel about the Blacklist, a file of criminals that are too dangerous to keep operating.He will divulge this list to the authorities; will even help to capture them. But first, he wants one thing: Former Army Captain, Steven Grant Rogers, turned Special Agent for the FBI.As Tony drags both of them into danger and closer to death time and time again, will the former lovers ever be able to trust each other again, after ten years of betrayal?





	The Blacklist

**Author's Note:**

> Well, my first foray into Ultimates, and this world is so crazy, I thought it would be perfect for a Blacklist AU. 
> 
> PLEASE MIND THE TAGS, IT GETS REALLY DARK IN LATER CHAPTERS
> 
> SteveTony is endgame, of course, because it’s me. 
> 
> For my Stony Bingo square “Crossover: Marvel Verse/Non-Marvel Verse”
> 
> Beta by the wonderful brokeneisenglas. My profuse thanks.

Tony stared at the ugly, grey building, the brim of his hat tipping up. 

“You know,” Rhodey said at his side, “there are better ways of getting his attention.” 

Tony didn’t dare to look at his partner, not wanting to see the slight twinkle in his eyes. “I am not doing this to see _him_ ,” he sniffs. 

Rhodey chuckled low. “I believe you, Tones.”

“My word, this screams him all over though, doesn’t it?”

“Big, imposing, but utilitarian? Yes, actually. Figures he would want to be an Agent after everything. Must be nice for you, though, to be back in the country.”

Tony breathed in deep, and didn’t reply. So many memories and regrets he left behind were coming to the surface and he shoved them down harshly. He picked up his briefcase and straightened his jacket. He was _not_ primping. He wouldn’t see him until later anyway.

He turned to his best friend, a brittle smile on his lips. “I know you don’t approve, but I am tired, my darling. It’s time for me to retire.”

Rhodey put a hand on his shoulder, the twinkle in his eyes slightly dimmed but there was that soft look he reserved for him alone. Tony sighed internally. Why couldn’t he have fallen for this man instead? He knew that Rhodey would have made him happy if he had given him the chance, but that was the past. Rhodey was happy with Carol. They tried to hide it from him but he knew. And couldn’t be more pleased that they found each other.

“But you have to do it with a bang, right?” Rhodey asked. Tony reached up to hold his hand. 

“You know me very well, dear friend.” 

Tony squeezed his hand one more time before stepping into the building, going up to the guards stationed near the entrance. He passed his passport over to the guard behind the bulletproof glass.

“Antonio Stark,” he said. “I wish to see Nicholas Fury. I assure you he would like to speak to me.”

The agent raised an eyebrow at him, scanning his passport into the system.

Tony, meanwhile, stood by the FBI seal on the floor, dropping his bag to the ground, folding up his jacket and taking off his hat. 

He heard the beep of the computer and the sirens came in quick succession. Agents swarmed the lobby, all guns pointing at him, and a few more with rifles appeared from the second floor terrace.

Tony sank to the seal on his knees, hands behind his head. He looked up at the camera closest to him with a smirk. 

On the wall where there was a notice of the latest FBI top ten most wanted list was his name:

Antonio Edward Stark.

Also known as Red. 

—-

Steve cracked his eyes open, staring blearily at the alarm clock. Jan was curled up on his chest, still deeply asleep. He focused on the red numbers, and jumped, jolting her awake.

“Shit!” He started for the bathroom. 

“What is it?” Jan asked sleepily, starting to sit up. Her short dark hair was in disarray, a rare sight for the fashion designer who was always at the height of poise and fashion. 

“I’m late!” Steve shouted from the other room. “And on my first day!”

Jan looked at the clock. 8:50 am. He had 10 minutes to get to work on his first day on the job as a Special Agent for the National Security Branch of the FBI. 

Steve threw on some clothes hurriedly, got his suit on, and made for the kitchen for a cup of coffee to have in the car and maybe a granola bar. He couldn’t believe he overslept. But Jan was very proud of him, finally getting the job he worked hard at Quantico for, and showed it enthusiastically last night. Several times, in fact.

Jan was there already, filling out his travel mug and pouring another one for herself.

“Any plans for the day?” Steve asked, pecking her cheek in thanks. 

“Office, as usual,” Jan shrugged, taking a sip of her brew. “I don’t have to be in until eleven anyway.”

“Lucky you,” he said, finishing up knotting his tie. “Well, I gotta go.”

She slunk off the stool to follow him to the door as Steve shoved his feet into his shoes and grabbed his keys from a hook. He slung his bag over his shoulder, patted down his pockets for his phone and wallet and turned to her.

“Bye.” He gave her another kiss.

She rolled her eyes. “Go, you’re so late.”

As soon as he stepped out, several black unmarked SUVs came to the door, surrounding his car, their sirens wailing.

A woman stepped out the passenger side of the closest one. She had dark hair and eyes, and wore a no-nonsense pantsuit. Steve saw her badge hooked on her belt, and her gun holster on the other side.

She stood in front of Steve and he immediately moved to cover Jan behind him.

“Maria Hill,” she introduced herself, taking out her badge and showing it to Steve. “I work for Executive Assistant Director Nick Fury.”

Steve recognised the name. “That’s good, but he works for the CRSSB. I’m the newest agent for National Security.”

“There’s been a development, Agent Rogers,” Hill said shortly. “Your department has been informed of your...need...to be at our branch today. Executive Assistant Director Coulson is handing you over to our branch for the time being.” She turned around as Steve’s face hardened, prompting no further questions.

She opened the door of her SUV and indicated he go in. “I’m here to take you to the bureau.” The distaste of being made Steve’s chauffeur for the day showed on her face. She clearly had better things to do.

Steve stood his ground, his knuckles on his travel mug turning white as he gripped it tightly. 

“Not until I get some answers,” he growled.

“And you will,” she replied sharply. “Just not in here.”

Steve suddenly became aware of the twitching curtains and the other onlookers staring at them. Fuck, he loved this neighbourhood; he just moved in two months ago. It was a steal for the area and square footage, and the real estate agent was ecstatic to meet him and get him signing on the dotted line before the day was up.

He inclined his head towards Jan. “Go to your office now; it’s safer than being here until I get to the bottom of this.”

Jan huffed. “I will be fine. I’m more worried about you.”

Steve squared his shoulders. “No. I was a Captain in the fucking army. Whoever is behind this should be the one worried.”

——-

Executive Assistant Director Nick Fury stared at his current “guest” occupying a reinforced glass and steel cage in the middle of the floor from his office window. They were in the deepest bowels of HQ, in a space normally reserved for only the most dangerous of criminals the FBI had ever captured. 

Antonio Edward Stark. Codename Red. Currently number one on the FBI’s Most Wanted List. 

Fury had a file on the bastard an inch thick of his known crimes but he knew the reality was much longer.

He knew that Stark was the heir to a weapons manufacturing company which made ammo and guns for the military. Then ten years ago, just as he was starting to turn around the company and making _billions_ , he disappeared after a weapons demonstration in Afghanistan. The world thought he was kidnapped by insurgents, but strange things popped up, here and there. And then the FBI learned where Stark went.

He went from one of the most respected army contractors, to one of the most wanted men in the world. Interpol had a similar file on him.

Stark became known as the Concierge of Crime. The Merchant of Death. His genius intellect allowed him to plan crimes and helped criminal organisations with daring heists and plans that left many agencies around the world scrabbling like idiots. 

Fury could not understand how this man came from legally making billions to illegally making billions. Nothing about this made sense. Why give up now? Who’s on his tail that he would willingly give himself up to the government? 

And now he was here, out of his own accord, but with a few demands that made Fury raise his remaining eyebrow in question. But Stark was tight-lipped and refused to answer any of their questions until he had his man.

Rogers was nothing special, according to his file. Brooklyn-born, quite sickly until his teenage years when he discovered the gym and protein powders, and got recruited for the Army. He was a rank Captain by the time he made 30, an astonishing rise if it wasn’t for his countless times of bravery, sacrifice, and frankly reckless bullheadedness for his country and comrades. Really, it was actually quite surprising when, a few years ago, just before he was due his next promotion, he was suddenly honourably discharged from the army and was accepted at Quantico. 

A knock came on his door, and Hill came in with a tall blond man. His blue eyes landed on Fury and he snapped to attention.

Fury took a look at him, and grinned internally. He suddenly knew Stark’s game. 

Fury stood up, and held out his hand. 

“I’m sorry for all the cloak and dagger, Agent Rogers,” he said, shaking Rogers’ hand. “However, time was of the essence.”

“Director Fury,” Rogers said, and there was a hint of a growl in there. 

Fury rounded the corner of his desk, and the other two followed him. He went down the steps, and to the glass and steel cage, where Stark was sitting quietly, then looking delighted when he saw who was with him.

“Fury, darling, you shouldn’t have!” Stark drawled, but his eyes were fixed on Agent Rogers. Fury heard the hitch in Rogers’ breath but his stance was ramrod straight, eyes narrowed in slits. 

“You asked, Stark, I deliver as per our deal,” Fury answered.

“Steve! How lovely to see you again!” Stark started to struggle in his restraints since he was put in them. “Come closer, sweetheart, and let me look at you. It’s been a while.”

Fury could almost hear Rogers gritting his teeth. Hill looked on impassively.

He turned to Rogers. “You know Stark.” It was not a question.

“Unfortunately,” the word sounded as if it was forcibly pulled from him. There were veins in his neck and forehead that threatened to pop. “I was part of his security convoy when he was in Afghanistan.” 

“Well, here he is,” Fury doubled back to Stark. “Now can I get some questions answered?”

“Of course, but I want to converse with Steve.” His eyes were now sharp. “And only Steve. But do be a dear, Fury, and take this cage away for the minute. I’ll stay in my chair. I’ll be good.”

Fury just stared at him and waved a hand. It wasn’t like there were no audio and video surveillance anywhere. The glass cage started to retract from Stark, and Fury nodded sharply to Maria and they left the room, with Rogers standing in the middle, in front of Stark, who seemed to know him rather intimately if his tone was to go by, and who would only talk to him.

——

Steve stared at Stark like he was ghost. A fucking nightmare, if Steve was honest. He felt the bottom of his stomach drop down to his toes the moment he set eyes on him, and a visceral part of his psyche screamed. He was getting a cramp from fisting his hands so tightly.

Stark hadn’t changed much. A few wrinkles here and there, mostly on the corners of his eyes. His trademark goatee was still intact. But he looked quite healthy, and stronger. The Stark Steve remembered was svelte, but with hidden strength. This Tony was bulkier, but he was still not as big as Steve. 

He fucking looked _good_ and Steve hated him more than ever as his dick made an interested twitch in his pants. 

There was a chair a few feet away and Steve dragged it with him, sitting in front of Stark, far away enough for his sanity.

“How are you, Steve?” Stark started but Steve was having none of it.

“What do you want?” Steve said harshly. He was done with playing games with him. 

“No need to be that way,” Stark said huffily. “I was only making conversation.”

“What. Do. You. Want.”

Stark sighed, shook his head, and gazed at him with a soft, pitying look. 

“If that’s how you want things, fine,” Stark said, his tone losing its playful edge. “I asked for you as you are the only one I could trust. I heard that you gave up being in the army—which baffled me to no end—and ended up at Quantico. But the bureau does have resources I don’t. I trust Fury and his merry group of bureaucratic agents less than I trust a scorpion in my hand. 

“Have you heard of the Blacklist?”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “No, I haven’t.”

“Of course not, you’re a mere Special Agent. Only the upper echelons of crime and this agency have heard of it.” Stark took a deep breath before continuing. “It’s a list of the most dangerous criminals on this planet, more dangerous than I am. They are names not a lot of other people have heard of, and they remain that way. Until now.

“I must admit I have...aided a few of those names but it has come to my attention that they need to be stopped. They are doing far more harm than necessary.”

“Cut the bullshit Stark,” Steve cut in. “I know you. These are names that are competition for you, and you want us to take care of them so you are free to do more.”

Stark smiled at him. “Incorrect, though I know why you would say that.” His voice turned mournful. “I didn’t think you would believe anything I said, but this is my truth: I am tired, I want to get out of the business. I had fun, I did what I wanted to do, but it is time for me to disappear. I can’t do that when these people are still roaming the world. Can’t have it on my conscience. I was thinking living out the rest of my days somewhere warm with a gorgeous blond. What do you think of the Seychelles? I want to own a hotel and operate it myself.”

Steve stared at him, as if he couldn’t believe the audacity of talking about his retirement like this. Conscience? He had one of those? As if he didn’t hurt Steve the way he did ten years ago.

Steve narrowed his eyes and gripped his knees. 

“So, after we catch all of these people on your so-called Blacklist you think we’ll let you go?” Steve said incredulously. 

“Why yes,” said Stark. “Full immunity is one of my conditions for giving up this list. My lawyer is with the DA as we speak, hammering out terms.” Stark hummed. “Who do you have to blow to get a drink here? I am simply parched.” He said that last line looking at Steve in the most sultry manner possible. 

Steve knew that look. Had been the poor bastard most affected by it, then. Well, he had always been the recipient when he was around, and it was a shock to the core that it was still affecting him.

His molars ground down together in consternation. He had Jan now! Perfect, beautiful, _female _Jan.__

__“So, what were your other conditions?” Steve forced out. Not the time, dick, not the time._ _

__Stark’s smile turned predatory._ _

__“They’re setting up a task force to capture and/or eliminate the names on the list. And you and I, my darling, are going to be a part of it.”_ _

__——_ _

__“I refuse.”_ _

__Steve glared at Director Fury, his arms crossed against his chest. He looked mutinous and ready to punch someone._ _

__Fury leveled him with his own glare, and it was terrifying despite the only one eye._ _

__“You can’t,” said Fury calmly. “This is a direct order from the Director. As in my boss. Who is higher in the chain of command than me, and also, _of you_.”_ _

__“May I ask, then, why am I necessary for this task force?” Steve gritted out, forcing to breathe through his nose. “You have other, more experienced agents ready and waiting for an assignment like this. I’m a rookie agent—this isn’t even my branch.” Steve was normally this reluctant to carry out a direct order, his soldier instincts were screaming at him to shut up, but this was—Jesus, close quarters with Stark. Again. He knew himself, and didn’t trust it one bit. He had moved on, God knows he had. But it was different when the object of your obsession was halfway across the world._ _

__Because that’s what it was. An obsession. A searing, passionate, soul-destroying infatuation that threatened to overtake everything Steve had and more._ _

__“Coulson, Director Pierce, and I have had a meeting, and we have decided to cater to his demands—for now,” Fury added when he saw Steve about to interject. “What intel Stark has is in the interest of National Security, and Coulson understands. He is keen to also tell you that when this blows over, so to speak, your place in his branch is still open._ _

__“Purple Heart, Medal of Honor, countless other decorations, and Captain at thirty years old.” Fury jabbed at a file at his desk with Steve’s name on it. “Tell me, Agent Rogers, why you think you can’t be as good as some of the more experienced Agents here. You had the conditioning, the grit, you were in the middle of the motherfucking desert burning your ass in the name of god and country. Why is this any different?”_ _

__Steve gave a loud exhale, straightened his spine even further. “As I have said, I was part of his security convoy ten years ago in Afghanistan. He had a weapons demonstration and we were about to go back to base.” Steve closed his eyes briefly before continuing. “We were ambushed, they blew up half of the convoy, and we lost five men. They took Stark.”_ _

__Steve clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. The pain was a counterpoint to the numbness as he relayed the sordid tale of his failure. In front of Executive Assistant Director Fury, no less._ _

__Fury nodded. He knew the story. Stark was taken for ransom. His brother, who acted as CEO of Stark Industries in his absence, had refused to negotiate with terrorists, saying it was company policy—no matter that it was his twin brother and CEO on the line. Three weeks later, satellites picked up an explosion in the middle of the desert, and the army went to investigate._ _

__There was little evidence that Stark was kept there, but they found his DNA among bloodied rags. All of the insurgents in the cave were dead, badly burnt or in pieces. A few were barely alive but they couldn't get anything out of them except for Stark’s name. The CIA figured that Stark was kept there and tortured but escaped, and he was not heard from again._ _

__Until his criminal network popped up in Italy and he was seen cavorting with the lowest of low in the underworld, literally and figuratively bedding with the worst of them._ _

__He was seen in Colombia, China, Thailand, Russia. Interpol was hot on his tail but he evaded them everytime. He was not shy for people to figure out it was him, and lead multiple agencies on merry chases around the globe._ _

__But he was extremely well connected and smart._ _

__However, this was the first time he has set foot in America, if his accounts are to be believed._ _

__“So, you understand, that I have a...personal reason for not wanting to be in the same room as Stark,” Steve finished. The real reason was much more personal but it was not something he was ready to divulge to anyone._ _

__Fury only raised an eyebrow. “No can do, Soldier. This is a direct order from your superiors, you will team up with Stark.” Fury stood up. “But you will not team up with him alone. Come, meet the other members of the task force.”_ _

__Steve followed Fury to a conference room nearby where three other men were waiting. Steve recognised them from Quantico, but they had finished their Agent training years before he did._ _

__All three stood up from their seats when they saw Fury step in._ _

__“Rogers, let me introduce you to Agents Pym, Odinson, and Barton.” Each man nodded to Rogers as their name was said. “They will be your teammates in this taskforce with Stark acting as your CI. You will be under my command, and I will still see over things.”_ _

__Steve nodded back to them and was a bit intimidated at his new colleagues._ _

__Hank Pym. A solid Agent with multiple successful missions under his belt. He was a biochemist by training, and able to analyse evidence at any crime scene. He knew that the FBI was quite impressed with his work that he actually had a spot in the lab for his own use._ _

__Thor Odinson. Blond, big—bigger than Steve— and intimidating as fuck. His biceps looked like they could crush a skull. Scandinavian by blood, but American by birth. He was known as the muscle in most missions and proved it. He was shot five times in the chest without any kevlar and still managed to take down the hostage takers. He was back in the field three weeks later after escaping from the hospital multiple times._ _

__Clint Barton. A legend at Quantico for being the best marksman they had ever seen, bar none. Perfect scores in any weapons training. For some reason, his favourite was the bow and arrow. A family tragedy forced him to leave the field and he became a desk jockey proficient in IT, able to hack his way through any system in the world._ _

__And then there was him. And Stark._ _

__This was going to be an unmitigated disaster._ _


End file.
